


Weasley Jumpers

by ptolemyandtime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, Rose Granger-Weasley - Freeform, Weasley Family, Weasley Jumpers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:15:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptolemyandtime/pseuds/ptolemyandtime
Summary: Whatever happened to all of Ron's maroon jumpers? One day Rose stumbles upon them. The rest is fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione is an hour past the birth of her first child, and she is beaming. Ron had been everything she needed him to be--short of her vaginal canal. And now, he is holding their daughter-- _their_ daughter--in his arms and showing her off like the proud papa he is.

The mediwitch had been kind and given the new family a full thirty minutes alone before the bombardment of love began. Her parents and the entire extended Weasley clan was a lot for anyone, and certainly a lot for their hospital room. In the last half hour, their daughter had been seen and held by everyone they loved.

Ron, who'd always been forced to share, was beyond happy to finally have his baby girl back in his arms.

Molly had been pestering them about a name for the last eight months and it was clear that another minute wouldn't do when she finally broke and asked, "Have you picked a name, yet?" 

Hermione and Ron shared a look before saying, "Rose."

"Oh, lovely! What a beautiful name!" Molly said clasping her hands. She went over to Ron and squeezed his arm.

"Suits her little cheeks, too," Fleur added. 

Victoire came over and whispered, "Hello, Rose," into her sleeping cousin's ear. 

While everyone focused their eyes on Rose, George dropped down to Hermione's side and said covertly, "I see what you did there."

Hermione was perplexed and showed just a hint of bashfulness. But she gave George a quirked look that clearly said 'Whatever could you mean?'

"You're trying to get good value out of your Weasley jumpers," he half whispered--though no one else noticed wrapped up as they were in the absurd cuteness of Rose.

"You caught me, George."

"And here I thought you were the brightest witch of the age!" George ribbed.

Hermione laughed and then turned to her husband and said, "You've had her too long."

"But you've had her nine and a half months."

"Exactly. Separation anxiety."

"What if we share her?" And he climbed into her hospital bed and placed Rose's legs and bum on Hermione. Rose started squirming her head--trying to get comfortable.

"Why don't you take the toes? I've got a much comfier chest," Hermione said.

Ron did as she said and then nuzzled her neck. "Yeah you have."

"Oi! I think that's our cue to leave, everyone," Ginny said.

Victoire had covered her eyes at the scene, and a laughing Ginny put her hands on Victoire's shoulders and led her out of the hospital room.

Hermione's mum came over and kissed her daughter's cheek. Molly linked arms with her fellow grandmother and made it very clear they'd be back early the following morning. And then the Weasleys and the Grangers left.

And only the Granger-Weasleys remained. 

Hermione fed Rose and turned to Ron.

"We made her," Hermione beamed.

"We did a bloody good job. Well, you mostly, but I did what I could."

"You were brilliant, Ron."

"Yeah?"

" _Yeah_. Yeah you were."

"I have a good feeling about this one."

"Me, too."

And they kissed in a way that had Hermione briefly--as in for exactly one second--forget that she had zero interest in having another baby anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven years, four months, and eleven days later, Hermione was reminded of George's words.

Rose had been playing hide and seek with her little brother, but he was a _little_ kid--unlike Rose who'd been a _big_ kid for _ages_ \--and _she_ was _very_ smart. Everybody said so, and so it took him ages and _ages_ to find her. She picked a very good spot--a little underaged magic always helped.

She was in the attic squeezed between her mum's old school trunk and a box labeled "so much maroon." She'd been here for fifteen whole minutes, and she'd already ran through her usual ways of distracting herself so she'd stay still and quiet.

But she was restless, and better still, she was curious. She absolutely loved maroon. It was quite possibly her favorite color in the whole entire world.

What could possibly be "so much"  _and_ inside this box? Was it paint or fabric? No. Her parents didn't make art or sew.

She just had to know.

Even if it gave her away, but Hugo wasn't as bright as she was and it was a box _full_ of her favorite color. She just had to know and mummy and daddy probably wouldn't care. I mean she was just bringing forgotten items to the light of day.

Rose opened the box and was mesmerized. It was as though it had been waiting in the attic just for her.

Inside the box were maroon jumpers and some of them had the letter R on them. She knew her grandmum had made them for her, but she couldn't figure out why she would've hidden them all the way up here, or why there were so many but in different sizes. Some were even too small but most of them were too big, and she'd never seen any of them before. She grabbed the first one and put it over her head, put her too-short arms through the sleeves, and then stomped down the attic steps down to the living room where she knew her mum would be curled up with a book.

"I found you," Hugo said. He'd been curled up next to their mum with a book of his own.

But Rose was too busy for semantics or scolding.

"Mum! Why have you been hiding my jumpers for me? Why mummy? I'll call Uncle Harry, and he'll have you 'rrested for stealing from me," Rose declared.

Hermione looked up from her book ( _House Elf Rights in Honduras_ ), and took in her daughter and smiled at her wearing one of Ron's old, much-loathed jumpers.

"Oh. Is that the case?" Hermione replied.

"Yes. Yes it is!" Rose retorted. Rose made for the Floo powder.

"And what evidence do you have that would compel Uncle Harry to get a warrant?" Hermione asked.

Rose halted in her path but swiftly recovered.

She looked stone cold into her mum's eyes and said, "I'm wearing the evidence."

"Umm," said Hermione. "So you are. But since you're currently in possession of it how can it be withheld from you? And how do you plan to prove malicious intent?"

"Well, I.....I.....well. Uncle Harry's the auror. It's _his_ job to figure it out."

Hermione considered having a long drawn out hyper-logical debate with Rose as they often did, but something of her old mischief returned to her, and she thought better of it. Plus, she missed her best friend and welcomed the excuse to have him over.  

"You're right, Rose. It is his job."

"But mummy! You could get locked up. And I'd miss you, and dad's not half as good at playing the riddle game. And mummy! Please don't let Uncle Harry take you to Azkaban!" cried Hugo.

Hermione wrapped him in her arms and said, "Oh, Hugo. I'd miss you terribly, too. It's important to let proper investigations take place, though, my love."

Rose looked shaken for a second and then her determination kicked in.

While Rose Floo-called the Potter home, Hermione whispered into Hugo's ear, "Don't worry darling. I haven't done anything bad, and lucky for us Uncle Harry's really good at his job so he'll know that, too."

Meanwhile over at the Potter home, Rose's head popped into the fireplace.

Lily was playing legos on a rug in front of the hearth.

Just as Rose let out, "UNCLE HARRY!!!!!" Lily said, "Hiya, Rose."

"Well that was _rude_. You could've at least said 'hello' before screaming in my ears!" Lily huffed, crossing her arms.

"It's an _emergency_. There wasn't time!" Rose said, rushed and with a tone of indignant exasperation.

Those are the words Harry heard as he rushed into the room looking increasingly concerned.

"Rose, is everything okay at home?"

"No, Uncle Harry. It's not! You must come quickly."

"Okay, Rose. Do as I say: after you take your head out of the fire, go and find a safe place to hide. If you see Hugo, take him with you. I'll come straight through."

Rose got up from the fireplace and made a beeline for Hugo. She grabbed his arm which was tucked under their mum's.

"Get up, Hugo. Now." She was tugging Hugo's legs by this point.

"Stop it, Rose! I'm cozy," Hugo said as their mum said, "Lay off him, Rose."

"But Uncle Harry said we had to hide."

Hugo looked frightened.

"Fine. I'm going. You can fend for yourself," Rose said as she stomped out of the room.

"What?" Hermione asked just as Harry spit out of the fireplace with his wand drawn.

Hermione hadn't seen her best friend in the field in years and was at first confused and then amused to watch his skillful scanning of the scene. There were two short seconds before he found her lounging on the couch and safe. In that time, Hugo had stuck his head under her shirt obviously taking his sister's advice to heart.

"You're okay?" Harry said breathlessly.

"Very," said Hermione.

"Everybody's okay? There's no emergency?"

" _No_. What did Rose tell you?" Hermione asked.

"In a sec. I need to Floo Gin and tell her you lot are alright before she Floo calls the entire family and the Auror squad." Harry grabbed some Floo powder and his head disappeared.

"Mummy, Uncle Harry's butt looks funny through your shirt," Hugo's muffled voice whispered.

"Shh, darling. Uncle Harry and his ears will be right back."

And just then, Harry stood up from the fireplace.

"D'you mind telling me what's going on?"

"You're the head of the auror department," Hermione said, mischief in her eyes.

"Hermione! Your daughter just Flooed my house saying 'It's an emergency. There's no time.'"

Hermione softened and then decided to have some fun.

"Well Head Auror Potter, seems to me you ought to question your witnesses and perhaps locate the alarm ringer."

Harry was more than a tad miffed. He and Ginny had just been about to move from clothed foreplay to indecent (or honestly very decent) foreplay when he heard Rose's shouts. He massaged the bridge of his nose, and released his rage and what was left of his anxiety.

"Right you are Minister. Right you are. Seeing as you're the only witness I can interview. Why don't you tell me what you know."

Hugo giggled under Hermione's shirt.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. Just ten minutes ago, Rose Granger-Weasley came into the living room accusing me and her father of hiding her possessions from her. When I didn't satisfactorily answer her questions she thought it would be best to involve law enforcement."

"Thank you, Minister. I will have some followup questions, but I think locating Miss Granger-Weasley and any other missing family members is my first priority."

"Thank you, Auror."

"What direction did she head?"

Hermione pointed towards the kitchen. Harry smiled and having fully let go of his frustration winked at her.

Rose was hiding in the pantry and she was nestled next to her favorite snacks: pretzel wands. (They changed flavors if you said different "spells." Her favorite was ordinary and salty, but she liked to go through some of the other options--chocolate-covered, yogurt-covered, lemon pepper--before she ate them.)

When Uncle Harry called out, "Rose. This is Auror Harry. It is safe to come out now," her mouth was entirely full of her beloved snack. Harry could hear her eating and opened the pantry doors.

Surprisingly, he couldn't see Rose. She wasn't where he expected her to be. He was about to close the door when his auror training and his years with Teddy, his children, and his nieces and nephews kicked in. He looked up and found that in a spurt of hitherto unknown skills of climbing and stealth (or more likely accidental magic), Rose had squeezed herself on the top shelf and was now lying flat as a board, mouth full, and pretzels in hand. She had not had any time to try and disguise herself or put pantry items in front of herself.

"Hi," Rose attempted to say.

"Miss Granger-Weasley, I am glad to see you're safe and well-nourished."

Rose was initially surprised by Uncle Harry's formality until she realized that he was taking her seriously.

Harry continued, "I'm also impressed that you did not come out of your hiding spot when I called for you. Good instincts, Miss Granger-Weasley. You can never be too safe."

"Thank you!" Rose beamed.

"I do, however, advise that if you ever need to hide to secure your safety that you keep noises to a minimum."

Defensively Rose said, "I didn't know why you wanted me to hide or for how long...so...But you're right, and I'll do my best to remember that. I don't want to end up dead or caught. _Not ever._ "

"Glad to hear it. Now, I tasked you with bringing your brother into hiding. I see that you have not done that. If you are ever in true danger, Miss Granger-Weasley, I expect you to take care of each other. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Uncle--er Mr. Harry, sir," Rose was starting to choke up and Harry knew he had to lighten the mood.

He stuck out his arms and Rose wiggled off her shelf and into him. With Rose now on the ground, Harry held her hand and lowered himself to her level.

“So Rose, now that we’ve established that everything is safe, will you please tell me the reason you asked me here?”

“Of course! I was playing hide and seek with Hugo earlier and I was in the attic and I found a box _full_ of _my_ jumpers that Mum and Dad have hidden and kept away from me, and they need to be punished.”

For the first time, Harry noticed what Rose was wearing. It was the jumper that Ron had received probably in their third year at Hogwarts. As the information clicked, Harry pressed on, “So Rose, how did you know it was yours?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? It has an 'R' on it, and it’s my favorite color. Who else could it be for? And there’s loads of them. Loads! How come I had to free them? Why’ve they been kept from me all these years? I’m nearly seven and a half!”

“Rose, those are good questions, but first, let’s get back to the question I asked you: How did you know it was yours? Was there something on the box that said “Rose” or anything like that?”

“Well, no.” She was thrown. She’d been certain--well actually she’d been curious. She pinked. “Well, um, you see the box was labeled “so much maroon,” and it’s my favorite color so I had to look.”

“Thank you for answering, honestly, Rose. So just to double check the facts you’ve given: you opened a box of unknown contents while you were in the attic. And you saw maroon jumpers with the letter 'R' on it in multiple sizes and you assumed they were yours.”

“I didn’t assume. They are mine!” Rose said trying to muster her certainty.

“And after putting one of the jumpers on, am I correct, that you confronted your mother and then came to get me from my house.”

“Yes.”

Rose had a feeling this wasn’t going as she thought it should. She didn’t like that feeling.

“Now, Rose, I am about to close up the investigation, but before I report my findings, I thought I’d give you a chance to solve the case.”

Rose felt uncertain, but she knew she was right. Didn’t she?

Harry had led Rose back into the living room. He gave her a look that said, _have you solved it?_

And she replied, “They’re mine. And mummy and daddy need to be punished.”

Rose crossed her arms and tried to conjure an air of determination.

Hugo popped his head out from under Hermione’s shirt.

“No, silly! They’re Daddy’s old jumpers!”

“But, but Daddy _hates_ maroon! Gran would _never_ knit him a jumper he didn’t like.”

“My darling, your gran wasn’t always a gran. First she was just a mum. And your father didn’t feel like he could always remind her of stuff like that since she always does so much. Until…” Hermione trailed off with a smile.

“Until, what?” Rose desperately wanted to know.

“Until he gave her grandchildren.”

“You mean _me_!?!?! Wow!" Rose was gobsmacked. "I’m a pretty awesome present. Uncle Harry, is that the solution? That these’re all Daddy’s old jumpers.”

“Yes. You and Hugo figured it out.”

“Daddy’s other name is Ronald so...just saying!” said a very pleased Hugo.

Rose was embarrassed, but mostly she was sorry.

“Oh, mum. I’m sorry for almost getting you arrested. And thank you for being a good auror, Uncle Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Rose. So what’re you gonna do with all those jumpers?” he asked.

Rose looked at her uncle like he was a numpty.

“Wear them, of course.”

Harry chuckled, “Now that the case is closed, there is something important I need to tell you, Rose. Because I’m an auror, I’m used to emergency situations happening at unexpected times. But that also means I’m very sensitive to hearing something like ‘It’s an emergency. There’s no time’ coming out of my fireplace. You gave me a real fright, Rose. So just think about that and try to only use those words if you’re in real trouble.”

Rose stiffened, and she was listening attentively.

“I promise, Uncle Harry,” she said solemnly.

“Thank you, Rose.” Harry stood up. “I best be off, though.”

“D’you have to?” Hugo asked.

“Don’t go, yet, Uncle Harry,” cried Rose.

“Pretty please!” Hermione added.

“Well, alright! If you insist,” said a smiling Harry.

Hermione beamed. It had been eons since she’d seen him outside work without their partners.

“I think I should make some popcorn, and Rose should give us a fashion show,” said Hermione. At the sound of those words, Rose raced upstairs to the attic.

“I’ll find some music,” said Harry.

“What about me? Don’t you have a box full of lime green jumpers with 'H's on them for me, mummy?” Hugo asked.

“Afraid not, my darling. Grandmum didn’t start knitting me jumpers until after your dad and I got together and she always did lilac. And she didn’t bother with any letters.”

“That’s so sad, mummy,” said Hugo.

Hermione cupped his chin on her way into the kitchen.  

“So your favorite color is lime green?” Harry asked.

“How did you know?” Hugo asked in wonder.

Harry leaned in and cupped his hand to Hugo’s ear, “I’m a wizard, Hugo. And wizard’s can do magic.”

Hugo cracked up like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Meanwhile, Rose was lugging the box down the stairs.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

And the popcorn had just started popping, and Harry and Hugo were just in a fit of giggles.

“What?!?” Rose huffed her breath blowing her hair up from her brow.

“Nuh-nothing,” Hugo said before laughing uncontrollably.

“Well, you’ll need to be a much better audience once this show gets going,” Rose said indignantly.

And ten minutes later they were.

Hugo was cuddled into his uncle on the big couch and they were sharing a big bowl of popcorn. Hermione sitting up with her legs spread out on the other couch with her own big bowl of popcorn.

Rose was currently dancing and walking to “Do You Believe in Magic.” There was some spinning involved. Hugo for his part was clapping. Hermione gave a “Woot! Woot!” And Harry did an earnest thumbs up.

For this ensemble, she wore tights that had wands on them that would “shoot out” different spells, and a jumper that Ron must have gotten when he was about Hugo’s age. It fit Rose snugly.

As she approached her mum, she did a special spin that just miraculously put her right in the position to take a big handful of popcorn from her mum’s bowl.

“Hey!” Hermione said in mock protest.

Rose just gobbled up her popcorn.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she called over her shoulder.

“I think we need some more models,” said Hermione. “Or this show’s going to be a little stop and start.” Hermione looked very pointedly at Harry.

“What? No. No. Nope. No. No,” said Harry.

Hugo turned up to his uncle, “You’re pretty enough to model, Uncle Harry.”

Harry melted a bit. “Thank you, Hugo. But just because I’m beautiful doesn’t mean I want to model.”

“Oh well that’s just silly, Uncle Harry. Look how fun it is. I’ll do it with you if you're scared.”

Hermione melted more than a bit.

“Alright, Hugo. Thank you for helping me be brave.”

Harry and Hugo got up from their couch--of course taking some time for popcorn eating on the way to the ‘changing room.’

“I want accessories!” Hermione shouted.

The song changed to “Respect” as Harry, Rose, and Hugo changed outfits.

Hugo went for the biggest one he could find. The head hole was nearly as big as his whole body. Rose proclaimed that he definitely needed to wear it off one shoulder. Hugo found a bright gasoline-in-a-rain-puddle colored belt and put it around his middle with significant help from Harry.

“Pull it really tight, Uncle Harry” Hugo asked. Harry obliged. And then Hugo began tucking all kinds of items into it. Most noticeably a necklace with sapphire colored beads. “It’s like pockets, Uncle Harry. Except it’s better because it jiggles when you dance.” And he shook his hips to demonstrate.

Harry couldn’t help laughing.

Rose of course was focused on the task at hand. She tugged on Harry’s shirt.

“Uncle Harry, you have to choose a jumper!” Rose demanded.

“Fair enough. But I’m not sure most of these will fit me, honestly,” Harry said.

“Well then keep on looking,” said Rose.

Rose found one that was just right for her and paired it with another one that she wore as a skirt. “Can you tie it Uncle Harry?”

“Hmm,” said Harry. “What if, instead, you use your hands to connect them?”

“Like a trophy?!? Wicked!” Rose said. And she did just that. And a little askew she stepped very carefully into some high heels.  
  
Rose looked up at Harry, “Uncle Harry, I don’t have hands anymore. Can you please put those emerald earrings on me? Oh and that gold tiara and, and...anything else you fancy.”

“Manners,” said Hugo.

“I already said please, Hugo,” Rose said.

“Yes, Rose. I would be happy to help add to your look. I’m not sure how these earrings go, though. They seem a little complicated.”

“They’re mum’s old muggle toy jewelry. You’re supposed to unclip them and then clip’em on my ears, but you _could_ just use a sticking charm,” Rose said in the tell-tale way of a sweet talker used to success.

“Nice try, Rose,” Harry said.

Once the kids were chock full of accessories, Harry had to finally decide on an outfit. He decided to do a modern take on his Aunt Petunia. A jumper draped behind his back like a suburban mum with some added improvements like putting a tight fitting one over his head and then pulling it back up just enough so the jumper covered his hair. (When he was little, Harry’d always thought pulling his t-shirt over his head like this made him look like a chef).

Harry grabbed some pearls and asked Hugo to put a feather boa round the jumper on his head.

Harry gathered Hugo and Rose 'round. “Alright, models, are you ready for the show of a lifetime?”

“Yes! Uncle Harry!” cried a jubilant Hugo.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Rose proclaimed. “Me first.”

“Well alright then, let’s give your mum a great show.”

And they did.

Harry tuckered out by the third costume change. Not before Hermione took many, many photos of his different getups. And not before Ron came home, and started laughing uncontrollably until finally Hermione scowled him into some very generous compliments. Harry thought he heard her say something about “creating an environment where our children don’t have to conform to gender roles,” but he couldn’t be certain.

Rose and Hugo kept up the show--reenergized by their dad’s presence in the audience. Rose didn’t quit until she had tried on every single jumper. (The one from when Ron was a baby was worn as a leg warmer.)

When the kids were out of earshot, Ron said, “Y’know, after all these years, I think I might be coming 'round to maroon jumpers.”

"I'll have to let your mum know," said Hermione. 

"Merlin! No. Don't you dare," said Ron. "But Circe, she looks so cute in them." Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione. Their kids giggled in the other room. 

They wore cozy and well-worn smiles. 

And they did not notice when Harry took a photo of them. 


	3. Chapter Three

Some months later, The Burrow was filled to bursting. The Weasleys had gathered--and more besides--for Hugo’s birthday.

One might think that with so many children and grandchildren that the fervor for birthdays in the home would have depleted from sheer exhaustion. However, anyone who thought that would be wrong and had shown a fundamental misunderstanding of Molly Weasley. If anything, the expanded family had given Molly a stronger bludgeon of guilt to use when trying to get the whole lot of them together.

But everyone in the family loved quiet, contemplative Hugo, and they wouldn’t have missed it for the best seats at the Quidditch World Cup. (Luckily they didn’t have to because his birthday wasn’t anywhere near it, and maybe George would’ve been tempted, but that’s besides the point.)

And while everyone absolutely loved Hugo, not everyone in the family understood all of his peculiarities. Like for example, the fact that he didn’t much care for heaps of attention to be paid to him, and thus, though he _loved_ presents, he _hated_ opening them in front of people. 

Luckily, Hermione had come prepared. There was a muggle bouncy castle outside and the adults and children alike had all been told that they could go in once Hugo opened two presents. Of course, this was more for Hugo’s benefit than theirs.

“Alright, Hugo, time to pick a present,” said George rubbing his palms together.

“Hmm…” Hugo pondered looking at the small mountain of presents upon the table in front of him. His cousins began sighing, but he took minimal notice.

There were big boxes longer than his arms and small packages with no clear shape and parcels that hadn’t been wrapped at all and packages he suspected had been wrapped many, many times just to throw him off the scent.

After two minutes of flitting between different items, Hugo picked out a bright orange envelope.

Ron smirked at George and the others who had been in the betting pool. Hermione smiled at her husband knowing that really Ron was just excited that he knew their son so well.

“To Hugo. That’s me!” Hugo said gleefully. “From your Dad, Ronald Bilius Weasley. That’s so silly, dad, I know your whole name already!”

“Imagine how pleased he’ll be when he actually gets to the present,” James sniggered to Fred.

“I think it’s lovely,” said Victoire.

“Course you do,” said Dominique.

“Wow! One, two, three, FOUR Chudley Cannons tickets! Dad! That’s such a great, fantastic, excellent present! Wow! Thanks, Dad!” said Hugo.

“Oh! I just can’t wait until we get to go! Thanks, Dad! When’s the game?” Rose asked in a whirlwind.

The wind in Ron’s sails deflated. “Well, you see Rose, you won’t actually be going to the game.”

“But! What?!!? There are four tickets, Dad! It makes no sense. None at all. Mum! Tell him. Tell him it makes no sense,” Rose persisted.

“Rose, whose name is on the envelope?” Hermione asked patiently.

“Hugo’s. But mum! Four tickets!” Rose demanded.

“Well, I was just getting to that. Hugo, we’re going to have a blokes' day out. Just you, me, granddad, and grandpa.”

“Woah,” said Hugo quietly. His grandpa Granger had never, not ever been to a quidditch match. 

“But! What! Mum! Mum, mum, mum! This is sexism plain and simple. I will not stand for this. This is totally and completely unfair,” Rose said huffing, arms shot down at her side in anger.

“Darling, thank you for that analysis. Your dad and I have talked about this, though, and I think as this is your _brother’s_ present that it’s fine. Remember, Rose, we talked about this already: this is your brother’s birthday, not yours. If you want to protest this injustice, you can do so upstairs in your dad’s old room,” Hermione finished.

“Mum! This is unconscionable--” Rose began.

“Protestors belong upstairs,” said Hermione.

“You are violating my rights,” said Rose.

“Rose, listen to your mum, or I will bring you upstairs myself,” Ron said firmly.

And Rose huffed and puffed and fumed all the way up. Not one chance to stomp missed.

Hermione and Ron both sighed and surveyed the room.

“Well you lot, I think it just might be time for a jumpy house,” Ron said.

And Hermione couldn’t tell whether it was George or James who got out the door fastest. With the overactive members of the family occupied, the house had thinned considerably. Only the patient remained; in short, Hugo’s favorites, though he’d always tried to keep that to himself. Lucy and Victoire, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, Aunt Audrey and Lily, his grandparents Granger and Weasley, and his parents.

“Only one more present, Hugo,” said Hermione.

Surprising everyone, Hugo went straight for a lumpy one that was lime green.

Responding to their surprised eyes, Hugo said, “What? It’s my favorite color!”

And it really was. Inside the parcel was a hand knitted, lime green jumper.

“Harry, is that…?” Molly said beginning to choke up.

Harry came around to Molly’s side and gave her a squeeze.

“Yes. It is.”

Molly had knitted this jumper many years ago for his Christmas second year. It was far too big for Hugo, but, happily and with quite a bit of logistical challenge, it was now lime green--Molly’s “H” still knitted in its original Gryffindor gold.

Hugo had got off his mum’s lap so he could put on his “best present ever.”

“If I didn’t know he was such a great kid, I’d be worried he’d be spoiled rotten,” Ginny quipped.

And oh was this spoiled boy beaming.

“Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry! Look at me! I’m jumping in my jumper!”

And he was. Harry, sporting a far more recent Christmas jumper, got up and joined him. Rose could tell fun was being had, and so she’d come back downstairs. She’d been wearing her dad’s old jumpers for weeks and weeks and today was just the same.

“Rosie! Come and do a jumper jump with me and Uncle Harry!” Hugo said.

And Rose did. Hermione started to take some photos until Harry said, “No photos ‘til you’ve jumped!”

“But I haven’t got a jumper on,” said Hermione.

“Accio jumper!” said Harry giddily.

Dozens and dozens of jumpers zoomed down the stairs and off the clothesline and one actually came off a very surprised Lucy. They swirled around the jumpers before landing in a heap upon the giggling birthday boy. 

Luckily Ron had the sense to take a photo of the barrage of jumpers before he put one on.

Ginny found an old one of hers. Arthur offered some to the Grangers, and Victoire turned the wireless to a rock station.

All the kids and adults in the jumpy house had come back in to see what was going on and Hugo shouted, “Put on some jumpers so you can join us jumping!”

Fred found a heap of jumpers with “F”s on them. As with most things that had to do with his Uncle Fred, he hesitated--not sure if it would honor his memory or tarnish it.

George was in a daze looking at all his old jumpers, all his twin’s old jumpers.

Ginny came up to Fred and whispered in his ear, “If you really want to be like your Uncle Fred, you should take one of your dad’s. They used to swap to try and confuse gran.” 

Fred relaxed into mischief which made him feel like himself again.

“Thanks, Ginny,” Angelina said wrapping an arm around her sister. “Sometimes, it’s a lot to take on.”

Hermione overheard this and thought back to the night Rose was born. To the naming of her children. To George’s words about Weasley jumpers. Some people had thought her family’s names were too matchy-matchy. Hermione-Hugo, Ron-Rose. But today, though no one had said it or perhaps even thought it, the jig was up. Her children were wearing the jumpers of the brave, kind men they’d been named for. The brave, kind men she’d been friends with since the age of twelve.

Hugo came up to Hermione, “Mummy, can I open your present?”

“Of course, dear. It’s the little one with lines all over it.”

The family was still in a jumper-fueled dance party so when Hugo grabbed his present and then brought his mum to “the very comfiest cushion on the whole sofa” no one noticed Hugo, jumper trailing down to his knees, nestling into his mum and opening up...he paused and pondered. “A book...nah. Too easy. A portkey? To...Atlantis! Hmm...too time sensitive. Perhaps a box within a box.”

Hermione kissed Hugo’s head and then brushed his hair with her fingers.

Hugo eventually opened a small photo album made up entirely of photos from the day Harry made his runway debut.

“Mummy! I love it. It’s just perfect. Look! You even left room so we could add some from today! I love you, mum. I think you’re just the best mum in the whole world.” He cuddled into her for a hug.

“I love you, too, Hugo. More than all the Weasley jumpers in all the world,” Hermione whispered.

“That’s a whole lot,” Hugo said thoughtfully.

“I know.”

A breathless George with a minor side cramp, came over to the couch to razz the birthday boy. Instead, he found the best piece of blackmail he’d ever seen in his life. He couldn’t stop laughing. He had completely, rolling-on-the-floor lost it.

This family wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t immediately see what had got George laughing.

“Very sexy, love,” Ginny whispered into Harry’s ear.

“You’re damn right.”

“Daddy, why didn’t you invite me?” asked Lily.

“Yeah, Dad?” asked Albus and James who were peeling with laughter, sincere though they were.

“If business ever goes belly up, this will be my nest egg,” said George.

“Oi! That’s _my_ son’s nest egg, y’ little thief!” said Ron.

“Oh, that’s not an egg’s nest,” said Hugo helpfully. “It’s actually a feather boa ‘round Uncle Harry’s head,” he said kindly.

The adult’s couldn’t help laughing at his precociousness.

Hugo shrugged and snuggled back into his mum.

Ron’s heart swelled at the sight of his son, and the brilliant, loving woman he’d been named for.


End file.
